This was going to be the BEST peach cobbler.
Unfortunately, I forgot about it.
And, I left the house.
For two hours.
And, if I’m going to be totally honest, I knew that the cobbler was almost done, because I had checked on it about 10 minutes prior to leaving. It had already been cooking for about 45 minutes. I honestly thought to myself, “I’m going to let it go about another 10 minutes, then I’ll take it out before I leave for lunch.”
Then, I promptly forgot about it.
I forgot about it until I was driving home, full from lunch, sitting at a stop light and happily thinking how nice it is that it’s only getting up to 96 degrees these days, instead of 103 or higher….
Then it hit me.
You know that feeling in the pit of your stomach?
I immediately picked up my phone to call my nephew, who was the only one at the house, to ask him to run downstairs to check the cobbler and to turn off the oven.
I’ll be in the shower.
That was the text I saw on my phone.
I couldn’t call him.
Needless to say, a number of traffic laws were about to be broken…
(Yes, it did cross my mind that I probably burned down the house…or, at the very least, in the process of burning it down.)
(As I was flying home, I had visions of my nephew, stuck in the shower while flames whipped up around him. My only consolation was that he was in the shower…maybe, just maybe, he could be saved by spraying the fire with the shower water????)
(The next thought was how I hoped he listened intently to his father, who is a fireman, so he’d hopefully know to stop, drop, and roll.)
(Then, it occurred to me that he’d be buck naked when the fire trucks arrived and how mortified he’d be and how he’d never, ever come to visit me again.)
(But, at least he would be clean and smell nice. I thought that was a good thing, no?)
Whew! No smoke billowing was out of my house when I turned into the driveway.
ThrillCam was right on my heels as we entered the house. I yelled, “It’s okay! Nothing’s on fire!”
While I opened the oven door, and reached through the surging mass of black smoke to grab the burning cobbler, he opened the back door so I could race out and place the hot dish outside to smolder.
As I stared at the charred cobbler, I held a moment of silence.
“Dang, ” I thought. “Now I won’t have any peach cobbler. And, I was really looking forward to some peach cobbler.”
Through my tears, though, I noticed something about the cobbler that gave me hope.
Much like new growth after a forest fire, there before my eyes were golden, juicy peaches, unharmed by the searing heat of the oven, protected by the martyrdom of their brother and sister peaches.
Was it possible?
Was my peach cobbler salvageable??
Was just the top layer of peaches burned while the rest was soft and juicy, even after 3 hours in the oven??
Yes, it was!
I just had to dig a little, that’s all!
(Now, if I were one to go all spiritual on you, I’d say there’s a lesson for us all in this: even when we’ve been burned, charred…smoldering and smoky from the latest hurt or trial, underneath it all, we might find, if we dig a little, goodness and perfection. “And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you.” I Peter 5:10)
Smoky Cajun Style Blackened Peach Cobbler.
I meant to do that.
P.S. all photos taken with my iphone camera
P.S.S. My squeaky, clean nephew never knew there was a problem.